Soulless
by Hagau
Summary: “I’m not… an innocent little kid looking for redemption. Not anymore. Barty Crouch Jr., in the cell with the one person who matches his coldness. oneshot, Crouch PoV


AN: Crouch Junior angstiness. My first HP fanfiction that I haven't been embarassed of... please don't be too harsh... I appreciate constructive criticism but no flames, please...

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Soulless  
Edna K Chan

I drew the cloak tighter about my shivering body. They'd left me with a thin, stiff-collared dress shirt and trousers – Moody's clothing had been returned to "the poor soul" McGonagall had given me her own mantle – I think she was mocking me. It wouldn't have been enough to warm an Antarctican kelpie. I saw the sun shining outside, a clear, pleasant day. Yet I couldn't rid myself of the feeling of being swallowed in bitter coldness.

She looked at me with her beady, scrutinizing eyes. I could almost see my own in hers, my grey-blue eyes in hers; the same unfeelingness, the same mask over our true emotions. I suppose we shared that ability – being able to hide anything under a steady, cold gaze. I opened my mouth to speak, but I realized suddenly that I was parched. Probably from screaming and cursing the whole way to the cell. So I sat silently, staring lifelessly, matching her gaze. How she must've hated me, I thought. I knew, from a year of being her coworker, that she hated to be fooled. I had done so spectacularly.

"Water…" I requested hoarsely. "Please…"

I wonder what went through her mind then, as he loomed over my slim, seated figure. Barty Crouch Jr., the Dark Lord's most faithful and loyal servant, sitting before her, asking for water. Finally, she sighed, conjuring a full goblet of water, and handed it to me. Thirstily I drank, though keeping my eyes on her.

"You know," I said, after I was done, "Transfiguration was my best subject." I waited for her reaction.

"I know," she answered stiffly. "Turning an entire human in to a single bone is no simple task for someone your age. Pity you went to Azkaban before I started teaching. I would have enjoyed such a skilled student." Her expression remained the same, though I knew that inwardly, she was convinced that she was making a fool of me.

She had struck something in me, but she would never know that, of course. "I followed the Dark Lord since I was twelve," I said coldly. "I suffered for him, like others never have. No chance for turning back ever existed, or ever will. Servitude for the Dark Lord isn't something to be taken lightly. You can't retract yourself out of his service at will. People, Death Eaters," I continued, harshly, _that blonde idiot, Malfoy… I'd like to get my hands on him…_ "That you hear about – the ones that are killed by the Dark Lord – they're the idiots who think that they can drop in and out of loyalty for him. They just don't understand. It's not a game. It's a commitment."

McGonagall held my gaze. "But why…" she asked quietly, "why, such a young boy – not even a teenager – why turn to the Dark Lord?" Surprisingly, her tone of voice had softened somewhat. _She's not as good at this as you are._

I paused for a moment, almost unsure of what to say.

That was a first.

"I… I never…" It just wasn't like me to stutter like that – was it exhaustion? _No… you don't know what to say._ I didn't feel that tired… "I never felt like…" What to say? She asked a good question... _That you've never been able to answer…_ "I never felt like anyone cared… Always little Crouch. Sitting in the back of the class. Son of the great minister of magic. Complete genius… but always alone. Never talks. No friends…" It was odd, putting such things in words. They rolled off my tongue without me noticing. "And at home…" I felt a hollow chill run down my spine. _Damn them._ "My father… he was never home. But when he was, we either fought or he ignored me completely. And my mother – it always seemed as though I didn't exist to her – she didn't seem to see me. Never a word. Never a greeting when I walked in the door, never a farewell before I closed it behind me to leave. It was as though she was a statue, unmovable." _Just like you are now_.

"I was just a kid…" _You still are…_ "Alone, unloved." _Just as you are today… _"So I forced myself to believe that I didn't care about them either." _You don't, you unfeeling, friendless little - _"So I forged myself a mask… to cover the weak boy I was." _And still are._ "Trust nobody… I said. Nobody's worth your trust. They are all below you." _Or is it you who is below the rest of society? _I found my voice rising bitterly, and only then did I realize the presence of the deep wounds that I had reopened. _Idiot. You messed up. Why'd you tell her anything? Lie, it's your profession._

McGonagall was still staring at me. I wish she'd turn away… and that I'd stop contradicting myself mentally. _It's only the truth…_

_SHUT UP!_

"Why… why didn't you just prove them wrong? Become what they never expected you to accomplish? Become an Auror? A minister?" _Just like you had the potential to be._

I sneered at her. "That's exactly it, professor. Exactly what I knew I would never be. My father of course, with him as a role model for what a potential Minister of Magic looked like – do you think my interest in politics was all too great? My own family, pushing me aside carelessly for the love of the public? He sent me to Azkaban without flinching, giving me a 'trial' just to show how much he hated me." _You loved killing him, the short cry as he saw your face… Murderer…_

"But for a while, I had somebody else to look up to. I had an elder cousin – an Auror. Everybody seemed to know and love him – until he was killed in action. I didn't see a single face that wasn't grieving the week after, but just as a storm clears away, their tears ceased to fall." _Is justice all you really care about? Maybe that was just it…_ "They had all forgotten his sacrifice. It was as though he had been erased from all their memories. If asked, they'd all say that he held a place in their ever-busy hearts… but I knew otherwise. Nobody cared. And I knew I didn't want to turn out like him, just a flicker on the pages of history. Nobody remembers a small hero – remembers their sacrifices for the 'greater good.' But everybody… _everybody_… remembers even the smallest of villains. Everyone sees the evil in the world." _And they saw you tonight. Your name will go down in history! _"Say… professor, do you recall the name of at least one other Death Eater who was sentenced with me?"

She nodded, her first motion since I had started talking. I found my mouth dry again, but I swallowed the uncomfortable feeling. "Bellatrix Lestrange was one," she said confidently.

"Right," I acknowledged. _That black haired, dumb-skulled excuse for a Death Ea – _"Do you remember any of the people who caught us? I believe you knew some of them."

McGonagall opened her mouth to speak; apparently sure that she knew the answer. But no words sprang to mind as she had expected. Eventually, she gave a name, but her voice was shaky. "Kingsley… Kingsley Shacklebolt."

I shook my head, smiling humorlessly. "He was involved with the capture of Antonin Dolohov. The ones who caught _us _were Elphias Doge, Emmeline Vance and Sturgis Podmore. They had some minor help, but it was mostly those three. And all three are members of the Order of the Phoenix, if I'm not mistaken?"

She gave into a temporary state of shock. "The… the order! How did… how did you -?"

I smirked at her – she had given me exactly the reaction I had been hoping for. "I _did_ impersonate a member of your petty order for a year. I took certain… ah, liberties with my interrogations. I needed to know as much as I could squeeze out of him, if I was going to be able to answer any suspicious questions that came my way. I even know what form his Patronus takes – a hawk. Fitting, isn't it? An Auror's Patronus takes the form of one of the few animals that hunt the snake, a legendary symbol of death eaters.

"But that's beside the point," I continued. "Which would be that even you, a respected professor, could recall the names of our captors, even when you knew them personally. If you can't, do you think any ordinary commoners could? There may be a handful that vaguely remember such things – but the 'good people' never get recognized. Do you see now, professor? I knew that was exactly what I didn't want to become – forgotten, a sentence in a book or two, stating my 'great heroics.' If I was going to make a sacrifice, it was going to have to make a difference in the world."

She had by then regained her cool composure, though her expression was mild. _The mask has fallen… you win. _"Poor boy," she whispered. "You're… you're so young… and yet you've seen so much pain…" Idiot… your words are nothing, falling upon deaf ears. _No, Barty. You're wrong… her words hit you like a brick in the face, and you know it…_

"There was a time," I said, to distract my arguing mind, "when the world didn't seem as bleak and loveless as I now realize it to be." _What the hell are you saying! _"There was a time… when… I trusted someone, and they held my heart. I used to love someone… no matter how… strange… that may seem to you." I leered at her resentfully.

"Your… your mother?" she inquired softly, apparently taking no offense at my accusation.

I laughed coldly. "What makes you think that?" I saw repulsion on her face.

"She rescued you, didn't she? She loved you, despite the fact that you were a Death Eater."

"That's where the official story is wrong. I had, before I left, given Winky orders to use whatever means possible to rescue me, but not to let me know what they were. I still don't know what exactly she did, but I suspect it was some sort of Imperius curse. I wasn't born yesterday, professor. I know what you people have in your possession. I took no risks."

"But under the Veritaserum, you shouldn't have been able to sidetrack anything!"

_She thinks you're a fool, lying just for show. _"I assure you, professor. It is no lie to tell part of a truth. And you may know that I am a very capable and strong-willed person. I could entirely throw off the Imperius curse – it was no difficulty making myself skip some minor details in my story."

I closed my eyes, massaging my temples to rid myself of the dreary feeling that hung on me like a heavy cloak. I was so… tired. _You're dying!_

_Shut the hell up…_

"It was winter… a rare, snowy white winter…" _You mental freak, what are you saying? _"I was home… hidden and controlled by my father. My mother was… away, and my father was busy at work, while I was trying desperately to cling to myself. A typical day, you could say." _Those idiots… _"This was after I'd been smuggled out of Azkaban… I was twenty." I wondered why I was telling her this – why would I tell her anything! _You've been dying to talk to someone… ever since you killed _her_… _"My father decided to lift the Imperius for a short while, so that I'd be able to enjoy the Christmas spirit a bit. Reward for being a good little mind-controlled Death Eater," I said cynically.

---

_I jumped into the pile of snow that my father had levitated to the side of the wooded path. I knew that if I stepped out of the boundaries he had in place, he would immediately Apparate me back into the house. But that was no problem. I was too happy with my confined freedom to care. Gleefully, I recalled a time like this, a few short years ago. Before I had become a servant of the Dark Lord – when I was just a small, innocent, lonely child. Though it was quiet and bitterly cold, it was one of the best days of my life._

"_I'm Bartemius Crouch Junior," I proclaimed, standing atop my little mound of snow. "And I completely hate my life!" Grinning manically, I rolled up my left sleeve, where an outline of the Dark Mark stood out against my brilliant, pale skin. "And I'm a bloody Death Eater!" Laughing, I mocked the fears of petty commoners. "Oh dearie! The big, bad Death Eater with the freckles is going to come and kill us in our sleep!"_

"_What in God's name are you doing!" A voice called from afar._

---

I turned to McGonagall. It looked as though she was trying to suppress a laugh. "We made fast friends," I said, with what could be the closest thing to a true smile I had made in years. "But…" My face fell. "I kept my allegiance to the Dark Lord a secret. She soon caught on. She wasn't an idiot, and when I accidentally let her see the Dark Mark, it confirmed all her suspicions. I was sure, despite our close friendship and trust, that she would abandon me on the spot, but she didn't. I told her about everything that I had avoided telling her before… I gave her information that I thought she could be trusted with…" my voice trailed off.

"She… she betrayed you…" McGonagall said, half questioning, half stating.

"Yes." _Now I know to trust none. _"She felt the need to tell her entire family – low-key workers in the Ministry, who would no doubt tell all the ministers. I knew where they lived, so I tampered with all their memories." _That's not all… _"And I killed her. At the scene of a local crime, so that the blame would be passed onto someone else. After all… I was dead to the world, so I was not a suspect." I said it all without a single flinch – not a flicker of emotion. _There you go._

Her not-so-long-ago passive face suddenly contorted into one of disgust. "You cruel, homicidal - "

"Death Eater?" I interrupted. _Ignorant sow._ "Of course. What do you take me for? You seem to have forgotten that you are talking to the man who is largely responsible for the resurrection of the Dark Lord, the insanity of two recognized Aurors, and in part for the death and torture of several others. I'm _not,_" I stressed the word 'not' with bitterness, "I'm not… an innocent little kid looking for redemption. Not anymore. I _want _to serve the Dark Lord. He's the closest thing I have to family – the closest thing I have to a father. We share much in common, the Dark Lord and I. He's the only one who can ever grasp the extent of what I've gone through, and the only one who has ever repaid my efforts justly. That's really all I ever wanted in life – someone who understood me… and gave me credit for what I had done." _You people never gave me any of that – you never have, and you never will._

She stared at me, stone cold once more, but I could see the glint in her narrowed eyes. "Maybe you just weren't looking… in the right places."

"I looked everywhere," I answered bluntly, passing my hand over the empty goblet beside me, refilling it. "My master… he taught me how to channel my magic, even without a wand. You see, if you hadn't addled my spell-casting ability with your hexes on the way here, I could easily snap these chains and be off… But every strength has a weakness, I suppose. Yet the Dark Lord's strength outweighs any you people may possess. If I could concentrate, undisturbed, for an extended period of time, I could kill someone, without a wand, and without a word passing through my lips."

I sipped the water tastelessly. "I learned things the hard way. Life was never meant to be good. But I can live it to the best of my ability. You see, I don't really care all too much at the moment. I've accomplished all that I've wanted to – nobody will be able to forget me now. When they come to terms with the fact that my master has risen again, they will hear leaked stories about me, and soon the Dark Lord's resurrection and my name will be said together; inseparable. They will realize: That Crouch, his father was running for minister of magic, but he was such a terrible father, I've heard. Drove his son to become a Death Eater, the way he treated the boy." _Self-pity is a sin…_

_Leave me alone, for God's sake._

She shook her head disappointedly. "It's all about the glory, isn't it?"

I took another small sip. "Not quite. It's about proving those idiots that they were wrong. That you are capable of accomplishing something they all thought impossible, and letting them know what their actions have resulted in! They'll realize the torture that they put me through in school – 'That Crouch Jr., the blonde one with the freckles – he sat behind me in Potions! Transfiguration whiz, but he was always such a weirdo and a loser. Well… maybe if we got to know him… he wouldn't have spent the day moping around depressed-looking.' That's what they'll say, that's what they'll come to know!" _They'll see now… what they've done to me!_

I felt years of anger welling up inside me, and I gripped the cup tightly enough that my anger melted the gold. Water spilled over my forearm and on the cold, stone floor.

Sighing, she lifted her wand to clean it up, but before she could, I felt a sudden chillness run through me, and it sucked warmth from my body inside out. The sensation was all too familiar for me – it was one that I dreaded to feel once more. "Dementor!" I choked, shuffling as best as I could from the only door in the cell.

McGonagall shuddered, though not as visibly as I did. Suddenly, behind her, the door burst open, and I immediately felt like my entire body was submerged in ice. I managed a half-scream as the hooded figure entered and instantly swooped down upon me. The water on my sleeve had frozen, bonding me to the floor with ice. I tried to concentrate on that fact as imminent death stared me in the face.

Distantly, it seemed, I heard McGonagall shouting. "Minister!" I heard, "Get it off him!"

It seemed as though the Dementor stared at me a long time before placing its frozen hands on either side of my head, forcing me to stare right at it. I felt nothing but emptiness – it was as though I was back under the Imperius, minus the floating sensation. I held no joy. All of the few kind memories I had were gone. It closed in, and the only thing I could sense was its clammy lips sealed tightly over mine, and the sucking noise it made. I could not struggle, cry for help, or cry from self-pity. I just let it devour my soul. I felt myself lifting off the ground… moving towards it… leaving my body. _This is it…_

Then I felt nothing.

It was over.


End file.
